


Forget Me Not

by NikAdair



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: College AU, Flowers, Hanahaki Disease, allurance for plot, blood mention, death mention (no one dies), forget-me-nots, hospital mention, slight body horror (maybe?), they/them pidge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:41:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22825816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NikAdair/pseuds/NikAdair
Summary: College life was stressful as it was: papers and deadlines and exams. For Keith, falling in love was never supposed to be part of the plan. Especially with his best friend. Even more so when his best friend was already in a relationship. And when what Keith assumes is just a chest cold turns out to be literal plants growing inside of him, he's in a whole new realm of stress. With the decision of losing his best friend by confessing to him or dying due to not ever telling him, Keith is torn between which one he's scared of more. And neither is an easy decision.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 72
Collections: VLD Hanahaki Bang





	Forget Me Not

**Author's Note:**

> This is my piece for the [VLD Hanahaki Bang](https://vldhanahakibang.tumblr.com/)!  
> Art by the amazing Shay: [Check it out here!](https://auspiciousagape.tumblr.com/post/190940653851/this-art-piece-was-created-to-go-with-nikadairs)

“Remind me again why college is important?” Keith muttered, taking a drink of his third coffee.

“Remind me again why you need that disgusting bean juice to focus?” Lance said. Keith looked at him, seeing the wary look, and he took another large drink, making an obnoxious sound. This earned a disgusted look from Lance and laughter from Pidge.

“I’m with Lance here. Your caffeine addiction is almost as bad as Pidge’s, and I’ve seen them down an entire hot venti coffee in minutes,” Allura said, peeking around Lance.

“And it will forever be one of my proudest moments,” Pidge said, promptly taking a drink of their own coffee. “At least I don’t drink straight black coffee, you heathen.”

Keith laughed, waving his cup under Pidge’s nose. They scrunched it, leaning away. “At least I’m strong enough to handle the smell.”

Hunk pushed the cup away, shaking his head. “Only those who are dead inside can drink that stuff.” Keith laughed again, and Hunk rolled his eyes.

“There are few truths in this world. Gravity will always exist. Rain falls from the sky. And I am the living undead.” The table groaned and Keith smiled, slouching in his chair.

A loud crack of thunder shook the windows, and the whole table jumped, looking outside. A downpour of rain hammered against the window, the previously sunny sky turned grey and dark. “Speaking of rain…"

“Hey, if the whole music thing doesn’t work out, you can be a weatherman,” Lance said with a laugh. Keith shoved him, causing him to tumble into Allura. Lance glared for all of half a second before he burst into laughter.

Keith leaned forward a little, trying to see what was going on. Allura had her hands on his sides and was tickling him. No amount of struggling seemed to make a difference, her grip was ironclad. Keith rolled his eyes, looking back down at his notes.

But his attention was drawn away again at the sound of gagging. He looked up, seeing Pidge making a disgusted face and gagging sounds, and the child in him couldn’t resist but to join in. Both of them started laughing as Lance finally broke free of Allura, only to fall on the floor in the space between their seats.

Poor Hunk was the only one acting with any decency, swiping coffee cups away from the edge of the table nearest Lance as he struggled to stand again. “Remind me again why I let you do this?” Lance said, pretending to dust dirt from his clothes.

“Because you love me,” Allura replied in a singsong voice. Lance hummed for a second before pulling her into a hug.

“That I do Lura, that I do.” Keith started coughing, and he looked away. There was a slight burning on the side of his neck, and he unconsciously scratched at it. His throat felt weird, and he took a drink of his coffee, hoping it would quell the feeling.

“Come on, if we don’t actually study and be quiet, the librarian’s gonna kick us out,” Keith said, clearing his throat. They all turned to look at the librarian’s station, seeing her glaring slightly at them. They made pitiful sounds of apology in her direction, turning back to their notes.

Keith took out a pair of headphones and his music anthology. On his laptop, he pulled up the listening playlist and assignment list. With a pen in hand, he started at the beginning, taking notes about each piece that were distinguishable to that piece.

His throat still felt scratchy and he went into another coughing fit. Instead of the coffee, he took out his water bottle, taking a long drink. It did more to make the feeling go away, and he sighed a little, glad that something helped.

-.-.-

Hours went by, and soon they were being shooed out of the library. The rain had died down, leaving massive puddles in its wake. The sky was still covered in clouds, so the only light came from the street lamps. Allura and Lance skipped ahead, hands intertwined, laughing as they splashed in puddle after puddle. Hunk followed behind them, headphones in as he talked to his girlfriend. This left Keith and Pidge to bring up the rear.

Keith scratched at his neck for the umpteenth time that night, wincing at the raw feeling left behind. “You got a rash or something?” Pidge asked, nudging his arm. He dropped his hand, shoving it into his jacket pocket.

“Nah, I think my allergies are acting up,” he said, coughing a little. Which brought on another coughing fit. He groaned, grabbing his water bottle and taking a large drink when he finished coughing, out of breath.

Pidge eyed him suspiciously, but didn’t press the matter. “Well, Mr. Allergies, if you’re not busy tonight, we can hang out at my place and play that dumb zombie game you love so much.”

“It is not dumb. You’re just jealous because I have yet to die while playing,” Keith said, bumping into them.

Pidge rolled their eyes. “Sure, let’s go with that. So you in? I’ll buy pizza”

“Can’t. I’ve gotta memorize these stupid listenings for my exam Friday,” Keith said, kicking a puddle. The water flew up, hitting Hunk’s leg. Hunk spun back, squinting a little. Keith mouthed a sorry, raising his hands in apology. Hunk shook his head, the smallest of smiles showing through as he looked forward again.

“Damn. Well, if you want somewhere to take a break, you know where I am,” Pidge said. Keith nodded, and they fell into a comfortable silence.

Keith watched the lovebirds as they stumbled and laughed ahead of them. At one point, Lance picked Allura up bridal style and ran down the sidewalk. Allura squealed and laughed and clung to him as he ran, and Lance spun them around. A heavy feeling settled in Keith’s chest and he pulled out his phone.

They made it back to the main part of campus and parted ways, making plans to get back together to study Thursday night. Lance, Allura, and Hunk went one way while Pidge and Keith went another. They lived in the same building, but were a few floors apart, and with how short Pidge was, Keith felt better walking with them.

It wasn’t long before they’d made it to their apartment building. Keith made a silent gesture of goodbye and Pidge saluted back, both of them laughing, the sound echoing off the empty hall. Keith ducked into the stairwell to his right and made his way up them.

Each step felt heavier than the last, his lungs starting to burn. Normally he’d enjoy the burn, knowing that it was a good thing. But today, it was concerning. His chest felt full and his throat was itching again. He cleared it, focusing on his steps and his breathing. In, out, in, out. Deep and slow.

He pushed through the door to the hall, bending over and coughing. Wet, ragged coughs. It left him breathless, a dull pain in his chest. “Maybe it’s a chest cold,” Keith said to himself, his voice sounding raspy. Thankfully, his apartment was only a few doors down, and as soon as he walked in, his bag was discarded and he was in the kitchen, pulling out a bottle of water from the fridge.

He nearly choked on the water, the cold shocking his body. Keith ignored it, downing the bottle. The cold spread through his body, and he shivered, goosebumps popping up on his skin. He crushed the bottle in his hand, tossing it into a box next to the trash, and he trekked to his room. A quick look at his clock told him it was after one in the morning.

All at once, his energy disappeared, and he fell onto his bed. He didn’t bother changing, kicking off his shoes and pants. He got his phone plugged in and pulled the blanket over him before his body finally gave way to sleep.

-.-.-

“Day five of Keith being a grouch. Keith, how do you feel?” Pidge asked, pointing their water bottle at him. He glared a little, staying quiet. They stopped walking, standing in front of him, their bottle in his face. He sighed, indulging the gremlin.

“First off, I’m not a grouch. Second, no better than yesterday or the day before.” It was true. His head was still pounding, his throat still felt like there was steel wool in it, his chest still felt like an elephant standing on it, and--

He went into a coughing fit, causing Pidge to jump away. They wiped the top of their bottle, inspecting it as though they could see the germs on it. “Warn a guy next time you’re about to cough,” they grumbled.

“Sorry,” he said, his words thin. He took a second to breathe, his chest aching. Pidge walked back towards him, and Keith could see worry in their eyes.

“Are you sure you should be out?” Hunk asked, offering him a drink of his tea. Keith ignored the question, taking the drink. It was hot, but it was soothing on his throat, and he sighed softly. He tried to hand it back to Hunk, but he shook his head. “Keep it. You need it more than I do.”

Keith smiled gratefully, holding it close to his chest. It didn’t do much, but the heat seeping into his chest helped uncoil the pressure in it, just a little. “He’s got a point Keith. Maybe you should go home and, I don’t know, down a bottle of cold medicine and sleep the day away,” Pidge said. The worry that was in their eyes had traveled to their voice. Keith winced a little, hating that Pidge was worried.

Instead he laughed, a low gravelly laugh. “And miss out on another dull day of class? Who would do that?” He tried to laugh again, but ended up coughing. “Come on, if we don’t hurry, we’ll never find a good place to sit and all the good food will be gone.”

The mention of food had them moving again, Pidge and Hunk ahead of him, talking about their trig class. Keith breathed deeply, willing himself to stop coughing. It worked for all of two seconds before he went into another coughing fit.

Something came up as he coughed, and he spit it out. A glob of green left his mouth. He turned back to Pidge and Hunk, but something in the glob caught his eyes. It was blue in colour, crumpled in on itself. He leaned down to get a better look at it, but almost fell when Pidge called his name: “Yo, Keith, you good back there?”

Keith stood quickly, catching up to them. Pidge gave him a look, but he dismissed it. “Yeah, just caught my shoe on something. I’m good.” It wasn’t a very convincing lie, but it wasn’t really meant to be. He didn’t know what it was he saw, and he didn’t want to worry his friends.

“You know, tripping over thin air is a sign that you need more sleep. Especially since you’re sick,” Hunk said, his dad-friend voice leaking through. Keith laughed a little.

“But Hunk, my dear worrier, who would I be if I actually slept?” Keith said, wrapping an arm around Hunk’s shoulders -- nearly tripping, but getting there nonetheless. “It’d be like you without your robotics. Or Pidge without their caffeine. It’s a part of me.” Hunk shook his head, but didn’t argue.

A crack of thunder sounded over them, causing them all to jump. They looked at the sky, darkening clouds slowly overtaking the light grey ones. “I don’t know about you, but I’d rather not get caught in this storm,” Pidge said, throwing their hood up. Keith and Hunk nodded in agreement, and they picked up the pace towards the dining hall. They made it right as the first drop fell.

They’d beaten the midday lunch rush and took their normal seats -- a table off to the side, near the window, but close enough to the food area that they didn’t have to weave through the tables. Pidge dropped their bag off at the table and scurried off towards the food. Hunk and Keith looked at each other. “I’ll stay, you can go get your food first,” Keith said, falling into a chair with an exhausted sigh. “I need a minute to breathe anyway.”

Hunk gave him a look and Keith smiled, shooing him away. He reluctantly left, leaving Keith alone at the table. He sunk back in his chair, taking a few deep breaths. It hurt to breathe. It felt like a stabbing pain, sharp and sudden, every time he did anything more than a shallow breath. It reminded him of when he had walking pneumonia last winter (Shiro hadn’t been happy with him since he’d kept going to class).

That pain was made much worse when he’d cough, and it seemed with every coughing fit, his cough was getting worse. Keith doubled over, feeling slightly like he was choking. He grabbed a napkin, spitting into it, disgusted. He was light headed and out of breath, and he took a moment before looking at what he’d spit up.

There was phlegm, not surprising, but also something else. Something blue, like when he was walking to the dining hall. Using the edge of the napkin, he pulled the blue thing away from the rest, unfolding it. Keith could clearly tell it was a flower petal, the oval shape and veins were a dead giveaway. What puzzled him was why it had come out of his body.

He didn’t get long to ponder it before he saw Pidge and Hunk coming back. He quickly transferred the petal to a clean napkin, folding it carefully. The other was shoved in his jacket pocket, a brief moment of disgust going through him. Hunk was the first to sit, and as soon as Pidge set their tray down, Keith stood, pulling them with him. “They have much better taste in tea than me,” Keith said at the quizzical look Hunk gave him, leading them towards the drink dispenser to make his excuse more believable.

“We both know Hunk has the best taste in tea. But I have a feeling this isn’t about tea,” Pidge said, stumbling after him. He may not have been pulling hard, but he was considerably taller than them, so every one of his steps was a few of theirs.

“No,” Keith said, stopping in front of the tea. He waited until the students around them dispersed before continuing. “I coughed… something up, while you and Hunk were getting food.”

Pidge snorted. “That’s called phlegm. It typically happens with your kind of cough.” Keith shook his head.

“It wasn’t just phlegm.” Pidge gave him a confused look and he opened the napkin, the blue a stark contrast to the brown material. “Pidge, why the hell is there a flower petal coming out of my body?”

Pidge stared at it, their eyes questioning and calculating. Something passed through them that flashed too quickly for Keith to identify. He opened his mouth to ask when he heard Hunk calling them. “Come on, get your stupid tea and food. I’ll tell Hunk that you couldn’t make up your mind.” Pidge walked back to their table, their demeanor shifting away from the serious mood they’d been in just a moment ago.

Keith came back with a bowl of chili and a cinnamon roll. “Dude, you’re committing culinary treason,” Hunk said, scowling at Keith’s food.

“Excuse you, this is a midwestern staple. You just need to accept that fact,” Keith said, ripping a piece off and dipping it in the chili. Sweet and savory, the best combination. He made a show of making a satisfied noise while he ate, watching Hunk roll his eyes. Pidge shoved him, laughing, and he laughed too. Unfortunately that laugh led to another coughing fit, this time without the petal.

“Seriously, don’t you think you should go see a doctor or go back to bed? That’s a seriously nasty cough and I’d rather you not get worse,” Hunk said worried.

“I already told you, I can’t miss class. Trust me, missing a class as a music major is like being a week behind on class work,” Keith said, taking a long drink of his tea. “Besides, it’s Friday, I’ll spend the weekend sleeping.” Hunk didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t say anything.

They changed topics to the movie that had just been released in theatres, making plans to see it sometime the following week. Lunch went by pretty quickly, them jumping from one topic to the next. When they walked outside, they were relieved to see that it had stopped raining, at least for the moment.

Keith waved at them, trudging to his next class. His phone buzzed and he saw a message from Pidge telling him that they’d be by later that night and they’d figure out why he was coughing up flower petals. A brief thought about telling Shiro crossed his mind, but he shook it away. It was one thing to tell him about failing classes. It was an entirely different thing when it came to telling him about this.

-.-.-

It was sometime later into the evening that Keith heard someone knocking at the door. He knew that there were only two people that would knock at his door, or come by in general, and they both had their own patterns. The musical knock of Shiro, and the sporadic quick knocking of--

“Keith, you asshole, let me in!”

“You know where the spare key is! Let yourself in, gremlin!”

There was loud grumbling from behind the door, and it swung open, nearly hitting the wall behind it. Thankfully Keith’s habit of just kicking his shoes off against the wall laid them in the perfect position to catch the door. But that didn’t mean that the sound of rubber scuffing the floor didn’t make him cringe.

“Jesus Pidge, do you have no respect for other people’s places?” Keith flicked his eyes up from his laptop, watching Pidge close the door with their foot.

“Do you have no respect for someone who brought you coffee?” Pidge shot back. Keith shifted his attention back to them, seeing the two cups in their hands.

“Maybe you should’ve led with that.” He stood, walking over to them, plucking the two cups out of their clutch. Pidge kicked their shoes off, throwing their coat over one of the chairs. “Shiro would scold you for fueling my coffee addiction,” he said, settling back onto the couch. 

He took a sip of his drink, reveling in the warmth that spread through his body. As weird as it was, considering the last time he’d checked his temperature he was sitting at 100.9F, it felt like he was freezing and the drink was breathing life back into him. It was nice to feel something that wasn’t achiness and pain. It didn’t last long though.

Keith barely had time to put his coffee on the table before he doubled over, going into a coughing fit. Wet, ragged coughs that left him lightheaded, chest pounding, and feeling like he was choking. He grabbed a tissue, spitting the blockage into it, air immediately rushing in. He sat back, eyes closed, taking deep breaths.

The couch sank next to him, and the tissue was pulled from his hand. Pidge made a sound of disgust, but there was also curiosity in the noise. Keith opened an eye, looking at the tissue. Several blue petals covered in spit and phlegm looked back, the blue almost mocking against the white.

“What the hell?” Pidge whispered, looking at him. “These are actual flower petals. Keith, what the hell?”

Keith shook his head, picking up his coffee. His breathing stuttered, on the verge of coughing, and he hesitated before taking a drink. The heat from the drink made the feeling subside for the moment. “I don’t know... and I’m honestly scared.” His voice was small, and he kept his gaze on the drink. It was one thing for him to admit that he was sick, but a whole other to admit that he was scared.

Pidge tossed the tissue onto the coffee table, narrowly avoiding an open container of crackers, and threw their arms around his shoulders. “Who are you and what have you done with Keith?” Pidge mumbled, face buried in his shoulder. Keith looked at them, trying to decipher their tone of voice. Something was off. It wasn’t the normal cocky know it all humour that they spoke in. It wasn’t until they sniffed that Keith knew what was wrong.

He wrapped an arm around them, pulling them towards his chest. Pidge gripped him tighter, hot tears seeping through his sweater. “Come on Pidge, we don’t cry, not even at sad movies,” he said with a small laugh. Pidge let out a shaky one in return, shaking their head. “I’ll be okay, I always am.” His voice was soft, reassuring, and Pidge nodded. They sat like that for a minute longer before Pidge sat up, rubbing their eyes.

“Speak of this to anyone and I swear it’s the last thing you’ll say,” Pidge said, smiling. Keith lifted his free hand, crossing his heart. “Good. Now let’s figure out what the hell is wrong with you.”

-.-.-

Progress was slow to say the least. Keith was half dead (“Keith, please never say that until you’re cured,” Pidge said, shoving him) and almost falling asleep by the time they found anything relating to what was going on with him. They were sprawled across his floor -- Keith on his back with his legs on the couch (“I haven’t coughed yet, so clearly it works,” Keith said, to which Pidge shook their head) and Pidge with their head on his stomach. It was Pidge who’d found anything first.

They shoved their laptop into his lap, almost shoving his to the floor. He caught it, setting it on the floor with one hand while pulling theirs towards him with the other. It was a medical article from a few years ago with the title “HANAHAKI: THE FLOWER DISEASE”. He skimmed the article scrolling for what seemed like forever, trying to get the gist of it.

“Jeez Pidge, how long is this article?” Keith got to the bottom, the scroll bar on the side looking smaller than his cursor.

“Length doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re not the first case of… whatever Hanahaki is.” Pidge sat up, taking their laptop back. There was quick tapping and a second later Pidge was reading whatever was on their screen. “Hanahaki Disease: An illness born from one-sided love, where the patient throws up and coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love.”

Keith sat up, swinging his legs in front of him. A cough escaped him and Pidge quirked an eyebrow, watching him. He cleared his throat, taking a long drink of his now cold coffee, suppressing any further coughing.

“One-sided love, huh? Weird. We both know the only things I love are music and coffee.” Keith laughed a little, hoping Pidge would crack a smile. They didn’t look at him, their eyes glued to the screen. There was something in the look they had that worried him. “Pidge, what’s wrong?”

They were slow to look at him, something broken behind the glassiness of their eyes. “Keith, this thing is fatal,” they whispered, their voice sounding constricted. Keith felt his smile fall, his stomach drop. _Fatal. Fatal. Fatal._ “If it’s not cured… you’ll die.”

“So,” Keith paused, “how do we get rid of it? Some sort of medication or surgery? There has to be something. The people who had it before me couldn’t have all died. It’s been years, we have to have some treatment. We have to.” His words started clashing together the longer he spoke, his fear causing him to slowly spiral.

Pidge gripped his shoulders, the glassiness in their eyes giving way to tears. Keith’s chest felt tight, and it was hard to swallow. “Pidge, I don’t want to die.” Pidge’s tears spilled, and they fell against his chest, their shoulders shaking. Keith felt his own tears fall, and he wrapped shaking arms around them, holding them tightly. “I don’t want to die.”

They sat up, leaving their forehead against his chest. “You won’t. As long as we figure out who it is that you’re in love with, we can fix it. The study and that website said that if the person you love loves you, then the flowers go away.” They leaned away, looking up at him. “All we have to do is charm the pants off of that person.”

Keith laughed a little, and Pidge cracked a slight smile. It eased a little of the worry and anxiety he was feeling, seeing them smile, but his thoughts were still spiralling around one singular thought: _You could die from this_.

“Come on, let’s watch a movie.” Pidge nodded, standing and stretching. Keith finished his forgotten coffee, tossing the cup into the kitchen. It clattered off the counter and rolled to the fridge. A problem for Saturday afternoon Keith. Pidge curled themselves onto the couch, stealing the quilt that Keith had been using earlier, and Keith grabbed his comforter and wrapped himself in it. They ended up watching some cryptid movie, passing out before they even found out what the creature was.

-.-.-

Thankfully the next day was Saturday, so Pidge stayed the night, a relief to Keith, who always worried when they left late at night. Keith woke up feeling even more exhausted and drained of energy, and saw Pidge already typing away at their laptop. He sat up, scratching his head, his fingers catching on knotted hair.

“What’s got you searching so earnestly this early in the morning?” Keith asked, yawning. Pidge looked up briefly before looking back at their laptop.

“It’s not that early, a little after ten. You just happen to sleep like a log,” they said. Keith checked his phone, finding that it was indeed a little after ten. He sighed, flopping back down on the couch. There was a little pain in his neck from having slept at an awkward angle, and shifted a little before accepting that he had to be up.

“Okay, what’s got you so earnestly searching this late in the morning?” Keith tried again. Pidge paused in their typing, looking up at him.

They turned the laptop towards him. There was a word doc with a list of names of people Keith had seen in the past year, and a Chrome window open with various blue flowers showing. Keith didn’t pay much attention to the flowers, focusing on the list of names.

“You’ve kept track of the people I’ve talked about?” he asked, stretching. His back popped, and he started coughing. It sounded worse than the day before, and he felt more winded.

Pidge looked at him worriedly, turning the laptop back towards them. “No, but I thought it’d be helpful to know.” Their eyes scanned the screen. “You’re longest fling had been with James. Maybe it’s him?”

Keith laughed, shaking his head. “James had been a jerk with some sort of superiority complex. That only lasted maybe a month. He’s just as likely as any of the other guys on that list.” A face flashed through his mind and he mentally shook it away. _There’s no way it’s him. I don’t like him like that._

Pidge raised an eyebrow, typing something on their laptop. They tapped a few times, and when they turned the laptop back towards him, there were multiple pictures of various flowers on the screen. “Maybe we should start with matching the petals you’ve coughed up to the right flower and go from there?”

He was skeptical, but it was the best plan they had. They didn’t have to wait long for more petals to show up -- Keith had another coughing fit, this one with several flowers and specks of blood, and he took them to the kitchen, carefully washing the phlegm off of them.

He brought them back to Pidge, who took one and examined it thoroughly. Keith stared at the blue petals as they did, something twisting in his chest. _Please don’t let them be what I think they are._

“So, I think I have a pretty good match to the petals,” Pidge said, turning their laptop towards him again. Staring at him were several pictures of Forget-Me-Nots, the blue a perfect match to the one of his petals.

It felt like there was a lump in his throat, and no amount of swallowing could make it go away. “If we can match the flower to the person, we should know who you have to confess to.”

That thought made his stomach drop. Confessing on a normal day was already the worst thing he could do. But having to confess with the threat of dying? That felt almost impossible.

“Do you know who might like these?”

Keith was quiet, his eyes glued to the flowers. He could vaguely hear Pidge calling his name and asking if he was alright. All he could think about was who these flowers belonged to.

“Keith.” Pidge snapped their fingers in front of his face and he blinked, focusing on them. “Do you have any ideas?”

He swallowed, looking away. “It’s Lance,” he mumbled. Pidge leaned towards him, and he avoided their gaze. He knew they were waiting for him to repeat himself, that he’d spoken too quietly.

“It’s Lance,” he said louder, pulling his knees to his chest. This was the first time he’d ever admitted that he might have feelings for his best friend, and it felt both like a relief and like a ton of bricks falling on him all at once. It made it hard to breath, and he was vaguely aware of his heart beat picking up.

Pidge once again snapped in front of his face, getting his attention. “Okay, first, you need to breathe before you trigger another coughing fit.” Keith nodded, taking a few deep breaths, resisting the urge to cough. “Second, yeah, that’s not ideal. But it’s either you confess or you _die_.”

To say that the threat of dying wasn’t the worst part of the deal was an understatement. He’d rather die than ever have to confess to his best friend, who was happily in love with another. But the thought of dying was scary and terrifying, and he knew that Pidge was terrified as well. He could see it in the way they clutched at the blanket, in the way their eyes pleaded with him.

He looked away, something building in his chest. Guilt, maybe? Fear? He didn’t know, but it didn’t sit well. “I… I can tell him tomorrow,” he said, hoping to relieve some of the worry Pidge felt. “I won’t die, I promise.”

Pidge looked at him, and he could see that they wanted to pull him into a hug. Instead, they closed their laptop, nodding. “Okay, good. Now come on, I’m hungry. Let’s make breakfast.” They set their laptop on the coffee table and stood, offering a hand to him. Keith took it, pulling himself up. They walked to the kitchen, pulling things down for pancakes. But Keith’s mind was stuck on his promise. 

_How am I going to tell him?_

-.-.-

Keith woke up with a start, his phone alarm going off, the stupid drumming sound he always used playing. He groaned, covering his head with his pillow. The movement caused a spike of pain and he curled in on himself. Not that that helped any. He already couldn’t breathe, but this position made it ten times harder. He groaned again, moving slowly as his hand swatted for his phone.

“It’s Sunday, why the hell do I have an alarm going?” His thoughts were still foggy from sleep, so it took him a minute to remember he and Lance were having a study session. He shot up, cursing the pounding in his head. “Shit, which alarm was that?” He fumbled with his phone and turned the brightness down to something manageable, breathing (or trying to) a sigh of relief when he saw he still had an hour before he had to be at the library.

Keith put his phone on the bed, seeing petals littering his blanket. Not a lot, but he guessed he’d woken up in the middle of the night and had a coughing fit. He turned his head, seeing a few on the floor. The blue was almost mocking him, telling him he was an idiot for being in love. He shook his head, swiping them away as he made his way to the bathroom.

He looked like death. Skin pale and clammy. Eyes slightly bloodshot with dark circles underneath. There were a few flecks of blood at the corner of his mouth. It was a little frightening to see himself like that. Keith looked away, stripping and turning the shower on, making it as hot as he could handle. The bathroom was soon filled with steam, and it relieved the pressure in his chest the tiniest amount.

The warmth of the water was a welcome feeling. The beating of the water on his chest was soothing, and it helped him to feel the slightest bit better. He stood there until the water turned cold, quickly washing his hair, shivering by the time he was back in bed. He looked at his phone. Half an hour until he had to be there.

He did a quick blow dry, throwing his hair into a low bun, and threw on some sweats and a tank top. He wasn’t really trying, but he also didn’t really want to try. Not today. Not when he felt like death. Keith’s fifteen minute alarm went off and he slipped on some shoes, grabbed his backpack and phone, and made his way to the library.

It was empty, most students using their last free Saturday to have fun before they were up at all hours of the night studying for finals. Lance was already at their usual table, several cups of coffee sitting in the middle. Textbooks and notebooks littered his side of the table, and he was tapping erratically on his laptop, looking frustrated.

Keith’s coughing gave him away, and Lance jumped, looking up at him. Keith gave him a weak wave, walking over to their table. He took a second to breathe before sitting, slumping in his chair and laying his head on the table. One of the coffee cups slid into his vision, and he took the cup, grateful for something warm.

“You know, you really do look like death,” Lance said, one of his hands tapping on the table. Keith sat up, taking a long drink of his coffee. Lance looked at him, worry in his eyes, but a smile on his face.

“Thanks, it’s part of my new aesthetic.” Keith tried to laugh, but he started coughing instead, nearly knocking over his coffee. Lance took it from him, his smile falling a little. Keith wheezed a little, his head pounding. He knew he was getting worse, but it was getting hard to breathe.

Keith looked away, unable to look at Lance with the worry in his eyes. “Are you sure you’re okay? We can reschedule. Your health is more important.” Lance’s voice was dripping with concern, and he silently cursed himself. He never wanted to worry Lance. He never wanted to worry anyone. He hadn’t even told Shiro what was wrong with him.

“I’m fine, I promise. I just have a cold, that’s--“ Keith’s voice stopped and he felt like he was choking. He doubled over, hanging over the floor, and started coughing. It was more violent than any of the other times, and it hurt so much more. His eyes watered and something dislodged from his throat. A bundle of blue fell to the floor.

He laid his head on the edge of the table, taking shaky, shallow breaths. He saw Lance’s feet move closer to him, and he closed his eyes. He knew that Lance saw the petals, knew that Lance was going to ask him about them. But that didn’t mean he was prepared for the question.

“Keith, are those flower petals?” Lance’s voice was quiet, but the concern was evident. Keith stayed quiet, not wanting to answer. Not wanting to worry him. “Keith,” a hand landed on his shoulder, “what are those?”

He didn’t have a choice. The longer he stayed silent, the more Lance worried, the more he felt guilty. Keith sat up, looking at the table, the window, the floor. Anywhere that wasn’t Lance. “They’re forget-me-not petals, though I only figured it out yesterday.” He could hear the bitterness in his voice, and he laughed, a sharp bark of laughter that left his chest aching.

It was quiet, the silence pressing down on him with every passing second. The longer it went on, the more anxious he got. Keith started coughing again, more petals falling from his mouth. He was light headed, his vision swimming, and he blinked a few times. The fallen petals came into focus, splashes of red colouring the blue petals. He didn’t get the chance to think about what that meant.

A sharp pain shot through his chest, and he started coughing, wet ragged coughs, petals falling from his mouth, blood splattered on them. Some dripped from his mouth, joining the pile on the floor. He got a second to breathe, but it didn’t last long. His thoughts were fogging and his vision was growing dark. _This is how I die._ It would’ve scared him had he not already been terrified by the blood on the petals.

Keith felt himself falling from his chair, dizzy and out of breath. His chest felt like someone was stepping on it and his throat was on fire. He fell against something, the chair falling away. It took far more energy to turn his head to see what he’d fallen against. Lance had caught him, panic written on his features, and tears forming in his eyes. Keith closed his, taking as deep a breath as he could.

“You know, this stupid disease is caused by love.” His voice was raspy and quiet, barely above a whisper. “Pidge said that if I didn’t confess to the person, I’d die.” He coughed, his breathing getting shallower. He could barely hold himself up. He slumped against Lance, reveling in his warmth. “I’m in love with you.”

Keith’s voice trailed off, and he knew that there was no way Lance had heard him. He heard someone calling his name, but it sounded distant, echoing. His body felt heavy, and his thoughts were so foggy that he could barely remind himself to breathe. It didn’t matter though. He let himself fall unconscious, trying to distance himself from the pain and fear.

-.-.-

When Keith woke up, there was a bright white light shining down on him. He closed his eyes, throwing an arm over his eyes. He registered the beeping of a machine, a chemical smell, and the soft din of a TV somewhere near him. It took him a minute to remember what had happened, and another to keep himself from panicking.

He was in a hospital. He’d passed out at the library because he couldn’t breathe. He’d fallen against Lance-- Keith bolted up, opening his eyes. He’d fallen against Lance. But he was here. He turned his head to the side of the bed and saw Lance asleep in the chair next to him.

Keith took a deep breath, and his eyes widened a little in surprise when he could take a full one without any pressure, any pain. He took another, and then a third, breathing like he’d been able to before getting sick. It was a relief to not have that pain in his chest anymore. But how? How could he breathe like this? He hadn’t--

A memory of leaning against Lance, unable to breathe, popped into his head. He’d confessed to Lance, right before he’d fallen unconscious. He looked over at Lance again, really looked at him. Even though he was asleep, Lance looked exhausted. There were bags under his eyes, his body fully collapsed on itself. His hair was mussed and ruffled, and Keith might’ve found it cute had he not seen the red petals sitting next to him on the floor.

He had a minimal knowledge of flowers, but he’d know those petals anywhere. Tear drop shaped, curved in on themselves, bright red, almost the colour of fresh blood. He knew those flowers -- they were the ones he’d bring his mother every time he saw her. They were the ones he loved. They were his favourite. A sinking feeling started in his stomach.

The feeling didn’t stick around for long though. Lance stirred and rubbed at his eyes. Keith tried to get himself to move, to lay back down and pretend to be asleep. But he was frozen, his eyes stuck on Lance. Lance looked at him, relief washing over his features.

“Keith, thank god you’re awake.” Keith didn’t say anything, his eyes shifting to look at the petals on the ground. Lance’s eyes followed, and he laughed sheepishly. “Ah, you weren't supposed to see those.” He bent over, picked them up, and pocketed them. “Just remnants, you know? Leftover from… well…”

Keith finally snapped out of his stupor and looked at Lance. “How long have I been asleep?” His voice was scratchy and his throat felt sore. He cleared it, for once not feeling anything lodged in his throat.

“Only a day. Gave me and the librarian quite the scare.” Lance got up and walked over to the bed, sitting on the edge. Keith pulled his knees to his chest, careful to not get tangled with the wires and tubes attached to his arm. Lance sighed, looking down at his lap. “Were you serious? Do you love me?”

His voice was small, scared, so unlike the Lance he knew. The one who was loud and boisterous in all the right ways. Keith didn’t like hearing him like this. Didn’t like the doubt he saw creeping into his eyes. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t bring himself to, so he nodded his head, looking at Lance.

He couldn’t tell what Lance was thinking, couldn’t read the storm of emotions that were fighting in his eyes. Couldn’t read his body language. It was like there was a barrier between him and Lance, one so high that he couldn’t scale it. But it was there for only a minute before Lance started laughing.

“Man, I forgot how good it felt to breathe.” Keith furrowed his brow, and Lance turned fully towards him. There was a manic look in his eyes, tears glistening in the corners, and a wide grin on his lips. “Hanahaki Disease, unrequited love. I didn’t know what was wrong with me until you said something, but you looked so bad. Your confession is what freed me.”

Lance’s voice started getting wobbly and he coughed, laughing a little again. “You’re not allowed to scare me like that again,” Lance said, throwing his arms around Keith. Keith didn’t know what to do, but his instincts did. He wrapped his arms around Lance, holding him tight. He felt Lance’s body shake with laughter, and he couldn’t help but smile with him.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Keith whispered. It was all his voice would let him say, all he could get out. Lance laughed again, pulling away. He looked like the Lance he knew, with those sparkling eyes and dopey smile and-- Keith was hit with the realisation of what Lance had said before. “Wait, what do you mean I freed you?”

Lance’s face flushed, and he scratched the back of his neck. “Well… I may have this tiny little crush on you,” he said, his words smashing together. Keith barely caught what he said, but his eyes widened, his own face flushing.

“But the flowers…”

“Those were new, maybe a month now? I guess that’s when I figured out my feelings.” Lance looked away, as though hiding something. Keith looked at him, curiosity in his eyes. Lance sighed, looking back at him, sadness creeping into his eyes. “Allura wasn’t the happiest when I told her. I don’t blame her. But she was hiding the fact that she was coughing up flowers too.” Lance laughed, smiling crookedly. “Seems like our little group has something for flora.”

They looked at each other, and Keith started laughing. He shook his head, looking down at his lap. “So how is she?”

“Better off than either of us. After we broke up, she said she needed to go. About an hour later she texted me, saying that the girl she’d been pining over had the same feelings. So I guess everything worked out in the end.” Lance’s voice drifted off, both of them just looking at each other.

Keith didn’t know what to say, didn’t want to be the one to break the silence. There was a question hanging in the air that neither of them had the courage to touch. Not that they had to. The door burst open and several bodies walked in.

Pidge practically flung themselves onto the bed, wrapping themselves tightly around him. “Don’t you ever do something like that again, you hear me?!” they mumbled into his chest. Keith laughed, wrapping his arms around them.

“I won’t, I promise.” Pidge pulled away, looking up at him. Their eyes were red and puffy, and he could see tear stains on their cheeks. “Jeez Pidge, what happened to you? You never cry.”

Pidge shoved him, burying their face in his chest again. “Shut it. My best friend almost died. I’m allowed to cry.”

“Yeah, yeah you are.” Keith held them tightly, feeling their shoulders shake slightly. Hunk walked over, standing beside him as though torn on what to do. “Come on, I know you want to hug me too.”

Hunk all but flung himself towards them, engulfing them in a bear hug. Keith leaned against his shoulder, knowing that Hunk needed the hug more than he did. He looked to the door, seeing Shiro standing there, arms crossed and eyes red. “Can you guys give us a moment?” Everyone turned to the door, seeing Shiro, and all got off the bed, sidestepping around him.

Keith watched the door close behind them before looking at Shiro. He was biting his lip, something Keith knew he did when he was trying not to cry. A pang of something went through his chest. “Shiro--“

He was cut off as Shiro walked forward, wrapping him in a hug. He could hear the tears in Shiro’s voice despite it being muffled against his shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell me what was going on? I’m your brother. I need to know these things.” Guilt. That’s what had gone through his chest before, and what went through his chest again.

Keith hugged Shiro tightly, feeling his own tears starting to form. “I didn’t know at first, and when I did find out, I didn’t want to worry you. I didn’t mean for it to get this bad. I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m so sorry Shiro.” His voice cracked and his tears slipped down his face.

Shiro’s shoulders shook as tears fell onto his shoulder. “I’m so sorry Shiro.” That was all he could say, all he could think to say. He knew how scary it was to lose family -- it’d been years since his father had died, but it still felt new -- and he never meant to put Shiro through that.

Shiro pulled away, sniffling. His eyes were bloodshot and the front of his sweater was soaked in tears. He swiped at his face with his sleeve, making his cheeks redder than they already were. Keith couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped, but was thankful for the small smile he saw on his brother.

“I know you are. I was just so worried. I got a call from Pidge saying you were in the hospital and they were in hysterics and I didn't know what to think and I thought--“

“Shiro, breathe. I know. But I’m okay. It’s gonna take more than some dumb flowers to take me out. You’re stuck with me for a long time.” Shiro chuckled, wiping away fresh tears. Keith pulled him into another hug, this time for himself. “Thank you for being my brother.”

Shiro hugged him back, and they sat there for a minute calming down. Once Keith felt like he wasn’t going to cry anymore, he pulled away, scrubbing at his face. “Think we should let the others back in?” Shiro nodded and walked to the door, opening it. Pidge and Lance all but fell on the floor as the door opened.

“Ah, hi! We were just--“

“I know. Come on, I think the nurse is getting tired of us being in the hall.” They all looked towards the nurse, who had a scowl on her face. Hunk, Pidge, and Lance scurried in and Shiro closed the door behind them. They spent the rest of the day talking about anything other than Keith almost dying, and as night fell, Shiro herded Hunk and Pidge out the door, promising to get them home safely.

That left Lance and Keith alone in the room. There was a tense air around them, but it wasn’t necessarily awkward. It was tense, but comfortable. Lance sat on the end of the bed while Keith sat against his pillows. He could feel himself getting tired, but he had to ask something of Lance.

“Lance,” he started, causing the boy in front of him to turn to him. “What are we?” It was a simple question, but it still caused his heart to stutter and his breathing to hitch, his stomach churning. He saw Lance look away, lost in thought, before looking back at him.

“Well, what do you want us to be?” Another simple question, one that should’ve been easy for him to answer, but one that sent his stomach plummeting. It’d never occurred to him that he’d ever get the chance to be anything more than friends with him, and it caught him off guard.

“I--” His voice caught in his throat, and Keith started again. “I want to be more.” Lance looked at him. “If that’s what you want,” he added quickly. He would never force Lance to be with him, if that’s not what he wanted.

Lance chuckled, moving closer to him. Keith felt his breathing pick up a little, heard the beeping of the heart monitor pick up a little to match the beat he heard in his ears. Lance smiled, taking his hand. Keith didn’t realize he was moving towards him, his body moving on its own. Lance moved some more, and suddenly they were so close that he could feel Lance’s breath on his face.

“I think I’d like to be more.” Lance’s voice was just barely above a whisper, and Keith nodded, a shiver running down his spine. Lance smiled at him, tipping his face forward, and Keith closed the minuscule space between them.

The kiss was so much more than Keith could’ve ever imagined. His lips were impossibly soft, tasting of sugar, but his body was firm. One of Lance’s hands wound their way through his knotted hair, holding the back of his neck, and Keith’s free hand landed on his knee, supporting his ever slipping body.

It didn’t last more than a few seconds, but those seconds felt like an eternity, and when they pulled apart, Keith felt winded, his heart racing. Lance chuckled again, and Keith swore he could listen to it for the rest of his life. “Guess we shouldn’t scare the nurses,” Lance whispered, leaning his forehead against Keith’s. Keith nodded, staring into ocean eyes.

“I love you Keith,” Lance whispered, his face turning a slight shade of red. Keith smiled, giving him another soft peck on the lips.

“I love you too Lance,” he said, looking at him. Lance smiled, a wide sparkling smile, and pulled him into a hug.

After everything that had happened, all the questioning and uncertainty he’d been dealing with for months, he was glad to find something that kept him grounded. Whatever happened in the future between him and Lance, he knew that he’d always love him. And that thought brought with it a chance for hope and for love to flourish. Something he’d cherish for forever.

“I love you, Lance.”


End file.
